


Fever Pitch

by iliura



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fever, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iliura/pseuds/iliura
Summary: It's just a headache.Maybea slight fever. A good night's rest will fix it, and then he'll be back to normal. No need to fuss. That's what Akaashi tells himself. That's also what he tells Bokuto.Good thing Bokuto doesn't usually listen to him, and fussing over Akaashi is one of his favorite hobbies.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 36
Kudos: 365





	Fever Pitch

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I've been really emotional about BokuAka (and a million other things) and super stressed lately. I just needed to write something based purely on Bokuto being a total sweetheart. 
> 
> I have a thing for sickfics, so here you go. There's nothing gross, so don't worry. 
> 
> This fic is set in the Little Love universe, about a year or two after the end of Little Love, for those of you who have read it. However, it can be read independently of Little Love.

Akaashi pulled his glasses off his face and dropped them onto his desk without a care. The headache that had started out as a minor annoyance that morning had escalated into something so incessantly painful that the words were swimming on the computer screen. The way his body twitched at any sudden noise rivaled the visceral reaction he had whenever Oikawa grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him in excitement. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building behind his eyes. It didn’t work. 

With a huff, Akaashi dropped his head to his desk. The coolness of the surface was soothing, and he audibly sighed. 

“Akaashi-san, I—Oh!” 

Akaashi turned his head to press his cheek against the desk – which was also incredibly soothing – and squinted at the person who had just entered his office. Despite removing his glasses, he could still make out the features of the timid intern that he was, surprisingly, fond of. 

“What is it, Yamaguchi-kun?” he mumbled. 

Yamaguchi clasped the papers he was holding a little tighter and took a tentative step forward. “Are you alright, Akaashi-san?”

Akaashi hummed. “I’m fine. I just have a headache.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi pressed his lips together, then placed the papers on the corner of the desk where Akaashi didn’t have his face plastered. “I, uh, finished those financial reports you asked me to work on. You asked me to bring them to you.”

“Yes, thank you.” Akaashi sat up, cradling his aching head in one hand and grabbing the reports with the other. He glanced at them, but without his glasses and with the added disorientation from his headache, the tiny words and numbers meant very little to him. He patted the papers in defeat. “I’ll look at them later. Or on Monday. But I’m sure they’re fine. You always do great. Thank you, Yamaguchi.” He gave the intern a soft smile. 

Yamaguchi nodded rapidly and returned the smile. “Thank you, Akaashi-san! Can I do anything else for you?”

Akaashi shook his head, then regretted it because it amplified the pain behind his eyes. Yamaguchi frowned at him, though Akaashi couldn’t see it. 

“I have some pain medication in my desk,” he offered timidly. “I could bring you some? Or some water? Or some coffee?”

Yamaguchi’s desire to be helpful was endearing, and Akaashi couldn’t help but chuckle. But he waved halfheartedly at the young man to indicate that he needn’t do those things. 

“I’ll be fine, Yamaguchi-kun. But thank you. If I need anything else from you, I’ll let you know. Can you go check with Asahi to make sure he doesn’t need anything?”

Yamaguchi nodded again then exited Akaashi’s office. Akaashi glanced back at the financial reports, but he set them aside and plopped his head back on the desk. It wasn’t quite as cold as it had been a few minutes ago, but it still felt nice. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat like that, but it was long enough for him to be startled out of some weird half-waking, half-sleeping state when Asahi rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. 

Akaashi sat up quickly, grimacing at the way the pain surged at his temples, and placed his glasses back on his face. Asahi was frowning at him from the doorway.

“You look terrible,” he commented, stepping into the office and crossing the floor to approach Akaashi. 

“Oikawa tells me I’m a relatively attractive man,” Akaashi replied dryly. 

Asahi paused in front of Akaashi’s desk and reached across it to press his wrist to the man’s forehead. He frowned immediately, then turned his hand over to press the back of his hand to one of Akaashi’s flushed cheeks. Akaashi scrunched his nose slightly at the contact, but he didn’t make any attempt to move away as he usually would. 

“Yamaguchi told me that you looked like you were dying,” Asahi commented. “I thought he was being a little dramatic, but I think his assessment was accurate this time. You’re burning up.”

Akaashi huffed. “Am I? That would explain why I feel like I got hit by a bus.”

“You should go home.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

Asahi blinked at Akaashi. “And?”

“And I’ll be fine. I’ll just take some medicine and finish the day. I’ll have the weekend to rest.” Akaashi opened his desk drawer to search for the bottle of pain medication he kept there for when Oikawa was being particularly annoying. 

He was clearly struggling though, pawing through the sticky notes and pens and other miscellaneous things he shoved in there because they didn’t belong or fit on his desk. Asahi rounded the desk and found the bottle for him. He shook a few pills out and handed them to Akaashi, who swallowed them dry.

“Akaashi, you’re sick. You need to rest,” Asahi insisted. “We’re ahead on production, so just go home. I’ll give you a ride.”

Akaashi frowned up at his boss, but he had to admit that sleeping in his bed sounded much more appealing than taking random naps hunched over his desk that would continuously get interrupted. He sighed and stood, grabbing his coat from the back of his desk chair and pulling it on. Asahi nodded and hurried out of the office to get his own coat. 

While he was gone, Akaashi shut down his computer and packed his planner and some design sketches he was working on into his bag. He knew Asahi would scold him for bringing work home, especially if he were truly sick, but maybe he would feel better after a good nap. He would bring them home just in case. 

His steps were sluggish as he walked out of his office and met Asahi at the elevator doors. They descended to the main lobby of the building, exiting out the side doors and into a parking garage where Asahi kept his car. Akaashi fell into the passenger seat heavily and closed his eyes as Asahi drove him toward home. 

He must have dozed off again in the short trip, because Asahi was shaking him gently to tell him that they had arrived. Akaashi heaved himself out of the car and thanked Asahi, promising to _actually_ rest when he got inside. Then he turned and entered the apartment building, leaning against the elevator walls as it carried him up to his floor. 

As he trudged down the hallway, he remembered that he had plans for the night that involved meeting people places after work. He wasn’t sure if he would feel up for it, nor was he sure he would even wake up in time. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed the name of his most recent – and frequent – contact as he dug his key into the lock on his apartment door. 

It rung a few times before he was greeted by the sweetest voice and most comforting words he’d come to know in his life. 

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto sounded like he was grinning ear to ear, and it warmed Akaashi’s already feverish body all the more. “What’s up, Keiji? Did you take a second lunch break? I have a client in like, twenty minutes, but I could probably meet you somewhere real quick.”

Bokuto’s rapid fire questions made Akaashi’s mind swirl more than usual, and he had to pause his attempt at multitasking to process the things his boyfriend was saying to him. 

Finally, he managed to gather his wits and finish unlocking the door. He pushed inside and dropped his bag to the floor.

“No, I didn’t take a second lunch, Kou,” Akaashi replied. He opened his mouth to continue but was promptly interrupted.

“Is everything okay?” Bokuto asked. His voice had dropped from its usual bright cheeriness to something much more serious. It was laced with concern. “You don’t sound so great.”

“I came home early,” Akaashi explained slowly. It felt like he was only capable of producing short, simple statements. “I’m not feeling well. I might be getting sick.”

“Do you need me to come home?”

Akaashi dropped his keys on the counter and padded across the living room to plop onto the couch. A small jingle sounded from the hallway, and soon a fluffy white cat was leaping onto the couch and climbing into his lap. Akaashi ran his hand down her back, then scratched under her chin as she purred and kneaded her claws against his thighs. 

“I think I’ll be okay,” he responded to Bokuto. “I’m just tired. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it out with you, Kuroo, and Kenma tonight, though.”

Bokuto made a humming noise. “Don’t worry about that. You need to rest.”

“You should still go, though. You’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

“I’ll think about it.” The grin was back in his voice. “Get some rest. I’ll call you in a little while to check on you, okay?”

Akaashi responded with an affirmation then hung up. He tipped his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. The pain medication hadn’t taken the edge off his headache one bit. 

After a few minutes, he forced his eyes open and drug himself off the couch, cradling his cat against his chest as he stood. She was still purring, and now she was kneading his arm as he carried her into the bedroom. He set her on the bed and stripped out of his work clothes, digging through the closet for one of Bokuto’s long sleeved shirts. He pulled it on, then crawled into bed and pulled the cat along with him. She settled against the pillow and his cheek. 

He rested his hand against her soft side and closed his eyes. “Night, Miko,” he whispered to the cat. Then he promptly fell asleep.

*

Bokuto dug through his gym bag for his apartment keys as he waited for the elevator to carry him up. He tucked his cell phone between his cheek and his shoulder to use both hands to sift around in the over-stuffed bag.

On the other line, Bokuto heard Kuroo shuffling around. “Does Akaashi ever get sick?” he inquired. 

Bokuto finally found his keys and yanked them out from under his gym shoes. He readjusted the bag on his shoulder and took his phone back in his hand. “Not really, but it’s happened a few times. He just didn’t sound good at all on the phone.”

“I hope he isn’t coming down with something really bad.” Kuroo was munching on something now. 

“I just want to check on him and make sure he’s okay,” Bokuto explained. The elevator stopped on his floor, and he stepped out as the doors opened. “He didn’t answer any of my calls after we talked, so I’m hoping that just means he’s passed out.

Kuroo hummed in agreement. “I get it. We can just reschedule, if you want. I know we would still have fun, but I _would_ rather Akaashi be with us. Kenma probably wouldn’t come if he doesn’t, and I would like to get Kenma out more often.”

Bokuto unlocked the apartment door, nearly tripping over Akaashi’s discarded work bag as he stepped inside. “That’s probably a better idea anyway. I love you, but I would rather Keiji were there too.”

“You just want him there so you can drunkenly make out with him.”

“What’s your point?” Bokuto grinned as he toed his shoes off and placed his gym bag on the floor next to Akaashi’s bag.

The living room light was on, but the rest of the apartment was dark. Bokuto heard a jingle as Miko bounded down the hallway and ran to greet him, rubbing her sides against his legs as she wove between his feet. He crouched and scratched behind her ears then rubbed his hand against the sides of her face as she purred against him. 

“Hey there, Miko,” he whispered fondly. “Is your father sleeping?”

Miko mewed in response and ran back down the hallway. In the dim light from the living room lamp, Bokuto could see her white form take a turn into the bedroom. 

“You treat that cat like she’s your child,” Kuroo remarked. 

“That’s because she is,” Bokuto retorted. He shrugged off his coat and hung it in the entryway closet. 

“Have you found Akaashi’s body yet?”

“I’m going to check on him right now. Hopefully he’s still breathing.”

Bokuto heard Kenma make a remark about them being overdramatic in the background, and Kuroo snickered. Bokuto entered the bedroom and took the familiar path to his side of the bed. Even in the dark, he could maneuver about easily. He clicked his bedside lamp on. It produced a soft glow that illuminated the room just enough for him to see Miko curled up on his pillow and a lump underneath the covers. 

Akaashi wasn’t a conservative sleeper by any means; if he had the bed to himself long enough to fall asleep, he would sprawl out, stretching his limbs from corner to corner. It was common practice for Bokuto to coax Akaashi back to his own side of the bed, only to wake up in the middle of the night with Akaashi’s arms or legs slung over his body and their faces mashed together on a shared pillow. 

So the fact that Akaashi was bundled under the blankets, curled into himself on his side of the bed instead of doing his best impression of an eagle flying through the air while asleep, was a major indicator for Bokuto that something was wrong.

Bokuto walked from his side of the bed to Akaashi’s to sit on the edge next to him. He had the blankets pulled all the way up around his head, so Bokuto had to untuck them to receive access to Akaashi’s face. His dark curls were damp and stuck to his sweat-covered forehead, the tops of his cheeks were flushed enough that Bokuto could see it even in the dim light, and his lips were parted just slightly to allow for his labored breath to escape. 

“Should I call the coroner? You’re being awfully quiet,” Kuroo asked. 

Bokuto reached out and pressed the back of his hand to Akaashi’s damp forehead. He answered Kuroo in a whisper. “He’s got a fever.”

“How high?”

“Hold on.” Bokuto set his phone on Akaashi’s bedside table and leaned forward to press his lips to Akaashi’s forehead. It was something his mother had always done to him when he was little, and she had always been able to tell someone’s temperature by doing so. She was only ever off by one degree, if she was off at all. Bokuto had inherited that particular skill; Kuroo called it witchcraft. 

He sat up and frowned, then picked up his phone and stood to go find the thermometer that they kept tucked away somewhere in the bathroom.

“It’s too high for me to tell,” he told Kuroo.

Kuroo gasped dramatically. “He must be dying then if your magic powers can’t tell. Kenma, Akaashi is dying.”

Kenma muttered something in the background that Bokuto didn’t hear. 

Bokuto found the thermometer in the back of a drawer. It hadn’t even been taken out of its original packaging – a testimony to how little either of them got sick, and how little they ever had to use a thermometer were a temperature check in order. 

“How high is too high?” Bokuto asked as he broke the packaging open. 

Kuroo hummed. “If it’s higher than forty then he would need to go to the hospital. Do you really think it’s that high?” His tone was uncharacteristically serious. 

“It’s too high for me to guess accurately, but it’s definitely over thirty-eight.” Bokuto returned to the bedroom and sat next to Akaashi again. “I’m going to go so I can wake him up and take his temperature.”

“If it’s less than forty, make sure he takes some medicine to bring it down and drinks a lot of water. Text me and let me know what it is.”

Bokuto grinned. “Aw, Kuroo, are you worried? He’ll be so touched.”

Kuroo sputtered out a few words then hung up. Bokuto chuckled quietly and set his phone back on the bedside table. Then he shook Akaashi’s shoulder gently, grimacing slightly at how warm every part of Akaashi’s body seemed to be. 

Akaashi didn’t stir, so Bokuto had to shake him a little more forcefully. Finally, Akaashi groaned and rolled onto his back. His eyes fluttered open and he glared at Bokuto.

“Hey,” Bokuto greeted with a whisper. “I need to take your temperature. You’re running a really high fever.”

Akaashi blinked slowly at him, then opened his mouth to allow Bokuto access. Bokuto slid the thermometer in and under his tongue, holding it in place since Akaashi immediately closed his eyes again and seemed on the verge of falling back asleep. 

His temperature measured 39.3 degrees Celsius. It suddenly made sense that Bokuto couldn’t guess that number; he’d never encountered that high of a temperature before.

_At least he won’t need to go to the hospital,_ Bokuto thought as he stood and returned to the bathroom. He washed the thermometer, then grabbed a bottle of fever reducers. He filled a glass with water and brought it back to the bedroom, where he found Akaashi had fallen back to sleep. 

Bokuto sat on the bed and nudged Akaashi’s shoulder again. This time, Akaashi woke up relatively easily, but he grumbled and whined at the disturbance. Bokuto suppressed a smile; Akaashi was never this whiny. 

“I’m sorry I keep waking you up,” he whispered. Akaashi only frowned at him. “Take this medicine. It will help you feel better.”

Akaashi seemed to contemplate this suggestion for a moment, as if he were wondering if it was all really worth the effort he’d need to put forth. Apparently he decided it was, because a second later he pushed himself up on his elbows with an exasperated huff. Bokuto pressed the pills into his mouth, then lifted the glass to his lips so he could take a few sips to swallow the medicine. He insisted Akaashi take a few more sips before he let him lay back down. 

Akaashi flopped back against the pillows and groaned pathetically. “Ev’rything hurts.”

Bokuto lifted the now disheveled blankets to tuck them back around his ailing boyfriend. “The medicine will kick in soon. Go back to sleep.”

“I don’ want those,” Akaashi protested, pushing weakly at Bokuto’s hands as he laid the blankets on him. “’m hot.”

“And in a few minutes, you’ll be complaining that you’re cold,” Bokuto replied as he shooed Akaashi’s hands away and finished his task. “That’s how fevers work, babe.”

He was met with no more resistance, just a small sigh of resignation as Akaashi settled against the mattress. Bokuto grabbed his phone to text Kuroo his update, then began to stand. He stopped when he felt a small tug on the hem of his shirt. Akaashi had reached out and fisted his fingers in the fabric as tightly as he could. His eyes were closed, but his face was scrunched up like he was either in pain or concentrating intensely. Perhaps it was both. 

“Don’ go,” he whispered, barely moving his lips as he spoke. He tugged on Bokuto’s shirt again. “Stay here with me. I don’ feel good.”

Bokuto couldn’t stop the stupid smile that spread across his face. Seeing Akaashi behave so vulnerably was a rare sight, and Bokuto wanted to cherish it; as soon as his fever passed, Akaashi would surely return to his fiercely independent, no-nonsense self. 

But, as much as Bokuto wanted to curl up under the covers and hold Akaashi until he felt better, he knew he should do a few things first. So, regrettably, Bokuto untangled Akaashi’s fingers from his shirt and tucked his hand back under the covers. Akaashi whined. 

“I need to do a couple things.” Bokuto ran his fingers through Akaashi’s hair, pulling the damp strands off his forehead. “Just go back to sleep.”

He only got a weak hum in response, so he stood and grabbed a cloth from the bathroom closet. He ran it under cold water, then returned to press it to Akaashi’s forehead. The other had already slipped back into unconsciousness, but he visibly relaxed when Bokuto laid the cloth across his feverish skin. Satisfied that he had done all he could immediately do, Bokuto went to the kitchen to make dinner. 

Bokuto was no doctor, but he knew that it was important to eat and drink when running a fever. Akaashi’s temperature was so high that he would likely want to eat everything in sight – more than he usually did – once he had the strength. Bokuto decided to make okayu and miso soup; at least those were both light enough on the stomach that even if Akaashi inhaled copious amounts of them, he wouldn’t make himself throw up. 

While the food simmered on the stove, Bokuto gathered up his and Akaashi’s bags from where they had been dumped by the door. One of Akaashi’s sketchbooks slipped out of the bag as Bokuto shouldered it, and he only shook his head and tucked it back in. Of course Akaashi would try to bring work home even though he was burning with a fever. 

Once dinner was finished and put away, Bokuto showered and fed Miko. She scampered out of the bedroom when he shook the food bag, mewing excitedly as he poured the food into the bowl, running her sides along his shins and between his feet. He crouched to pet her gently as she munched, and she purred loudly in response. 

Bokuto wet another cloth with cool water and grabbed the thermometer, returning to the bedroom. Akaashi hadn’t moved from the position Bokuto had left him in, though his lips were just slightly parted again. Bokuto replaced the now warm cloth with the cool one and coaxed the thermometer into Akaashi’s mouth. He was relieved when it reported back that the fever had gone down; it was only a slight decrease, but it was going in the right direction nonetheless. 

Grabbing his laptop and headphones, Bokuto slid under the covers next to Akaashi and settled against his pillow. He selected a random show to watch just as Miko entered the bedroom and jumped onto the bed. She made her way up the side of the mattress and curled into a tight ball in the spot between Bokuto’s neck and his pillow. He could feel her purring enthusiastically as she put herself to sleep. 

Akaashi stirred next to him, causing the cloth to slip from his forehead. Bokuto grabbed it and was about to press it back to Akaashi’s forehead, but Akaashi rolled onto his side before he could. Bokuto dropped the cloth to the floor as Akaashi scooted closer, draping his arm across Bokuto’s stomach and tucking his head under his chin. Pressed together this way, Bokuto could feel just how feverish Akaashi was; even his arm was radiating warmth through the material of Bokuto’s t-shirt. 

Bokuto curled his arm protectively around Akaashi and threaded his fingers through his soft curls. Akaashi’s hair was still damp from sweat, but Bokuto kept his hand there anyway. He could feel Akaashi’s breath against his neck, coming out in soft, steady huffs, and if he focused, he could feel Akaashi’s heartbeat where his chest was pressed against his side. 

He took a deep breath and relaxed into the mattress, paying more attention to the way that Akaashi’s soft hair felt between his fingers than the show that was playing on his laptop. 

Akaashi awoke slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he regained consciousness. Waking was almost always a disorienting process for him, as he was usually in a completely different position than he had fallen asleep in. It was doubly disorienting this time, as he was waking into a feverish stupor.

His body ached, and his headache had returned, though it was significantly less severe. His face was pressed against warm skin that smelled faintly of cinnamon, and a broad hand was moving slowly up and down his side in a soothing motion. 

The corners of his lips curled up into a sleepy smile. _Koutarou._

He was accustomed to waking up sprawled across his boyfriend. Something about Bokuto being so close activated a more vulnerable part of Akaashi, and he would subconsciously seek out ways to get as close as possible. It usually resulted in waking to some strange, twisted pile of limbs and skin touching skin. This time was no exception. 

One of his arms was tucked underneath him, curled awkwardly against his chest. His fingertips felt the way static sounds, and he was almost positive that his arm was asleep and functionally useless due to lack of blood flow. His other arm was thrown across Bokuto’s body, and he had some of Bokuto’s t-shirt bunched up in his fingers. 

Their legs were tangled together, one of Akaashi’s wrapped around Bokuto’s, effectively trapping him in the bed. He could feel Bokuto’s cheek pressed against the top of his head, and with his face tucked into Bokuto’s neck, Akaashi could feel his steady pulse right below the surface of his skin. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feeling of being so close to each other.

When Akaashi opened his eyes, he saw Bokuto’s laptop balanced precariously on the part of his body that wasn’t being occupied by Akaashi. Something was playing, but Bokuto was focused on his phone instead. He was scrolling idly through social media, occasionally double tapping the screen to like something. He paused when Akaashi stirred and lifted his head. 

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Bokuto mumbled, angling his head to press his lips to Akaashi’s forehead. It wasn’t quite a kiss, and he hummed when he pulled away. “Your fever has gone down some, but you should take more medicine.”

Akaashi blinked slowly. “Is it morning?”

“No, it’s just after nine,” Bokuto replied. He chuckled when Akaashi pulled a slightly startled face. “It’s still Friday, don’t worry. I didn’t let you sleep through an entire day without at least making you get up and eat.”

Akaashi dropped his head back to Bokuto’s chest and stared at the computer screen for a second. “What are you watching?”

“I dunno. Some crime documentary.”

“You don’t like crime shows though. They make you sad.” Akaashi turned his head to rest his chin against Bokuto’s chest and look up at him through thick lashes.

Bokuto shrugged. “I haven’t really been watching it, honestly. I just wanted some background noise.”

“Why didn’t you just go to sleep?”

“Because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Akaashi gave a barely-there smile, but it fell away when he saw the dark, damp spot on the collar of Bokuto’s shirt where he had been sleeping. He sat up on his elbows, which was difficult because his arm was _definitely_ asleep, and frowned. 

“Kou, I’ve been laying here sweating all over you,” he groaned. “I’m so sorry, that’s so gross.”

Bokuto glanced down at his shirt, then shrugged again. “I don’t mind. It’s not that gross.”

“It’s gross.” Akaashi shook his head and began to untangle his legs from Bokuto’s. He rolled to his other side and put his feet on the floor, sitting up and shedding the covers. His own shirt was damp, and he made a face as he stood. His balance was a little off, and he wobbled on his feet a bit. 

“It’s fine. Where are you going?” Bokuto asked, sitting up himself and setting his laptop on the floor beside the bed. Miko, who Akaashi just noticed was sleeping tucked against Bokuto’s neck on the other side of him, rolled down the pillow and was startled out of her sleep. She stood and shook her body, then proceeded to begin grooming herself. 

“I want to take a shower,” Akaashi answered. He made his way unsteadily to the bedroom door and down the hallway to the bathroom. He thought he heard Bokuto shuffling around the apartment as he turned the shower on. 

The warm water felt amazing, and he let himself just stand under the spray for a minute as it unknotted his sore muscles and soothed his aching. He began to feel a little lightheaded though, so he hurried to finish washing the sweat from his hair and body. He exited the bathroom with his towel wrapped around his waist, making his way back into the bedroom to change into fresh clothes. 

Akaashi opened the drawer where Bokuto kept his t-shirts and pulled one of those over his head, then found a pair of sweatpants that had been discarded on the floor and tugged them on. He wandered out to the kitchen afterwards, finding Bokuto there heating up something in the microwave. He had changed his shirt as well. 

“See, you did think it was gross,” Akaashi muttered. He leaned against the frame of the kitchen entryway and pouted at Bokuto. 

Bokuto glanced over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“You changed your shirt.”

Akaashi received a slight eye roll in response. “It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Then why did you change your shirt?”

“Because I wanted to make you feel better.”

“Because it’s gross.”

Bokuto turned abruptly on his heels, and he was across the kitchen before Akaashi could even think about darting away. He wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s midsection and pulled him against his chest, lifting him slightly off the floor and nuzzling his face into Akaashi’s neck. Akaashi gave a little yelp, then giggled at the way Bokuto’s nose and lips tickled his skin. 

“Stop arguing with me –” Bokuto pressed an open mouthed kiss to Akaashi’s neck, “– about silly things.”

Akaashi’s feet found the floor again, but he still clung to Bokuto. “I like arguing with you about silly things. It’s fun. You always get so flustered.”

He grinned when Bokuto shot him a heatless glare, then hummed when Bokuto gave him a small kiss on the tip of his nose as the microwave went off. Bokuto left Akaashi standing there and went back across the kitchen, pulling a steaming bowl out of the microwave. 

He gestured to the kitchen table. “Sit down, I made some miso soup for you. You need to eat, and I’m sure you’re starting to feel hungry.”

Akaashi sat. Truthfully, he felt like he was starving; he was grateful Bokuto knew him so well. He sipped on the soup slowly as Bokuto disappeared down the hallway, returning a moment later with some medicine and a half full glass of water. He dumped the water from the cup in the sink and refilled it, setting it next to Akaashi at the table.

“Take those, they’ll help keep your temperature down.” Bokuto sat next to Akaashi and gave him a soft look. “Are you feeling any better?”

Akaashi swallowed the pills with a gulp of water, then returned to his soup. “I don’t feel as bad as when I got home. Did you end up going out with Kuroo and Kenma?”

Bokuto shook his head. “Nah, I wanted to stay here and make sure you were okay. You had a really high temperature.”

“I’m sorry I kept you from going out. You didn’t have to stay with me.”

“Don’t apologize. It was Kuroo’s idea, and I would have been worried about you the whole time anyway. Besides, I love Kuroo, but I would much rather spend my time with you, even if you’re sick. Trust me.”

Akaashi finished his soup, and though he wanted to eat three more bowls, he decided to hold off and let himself rest some more before he tried to shovel more food into his body. Bokuto gathered up his dishes, then followed him back into the bedroom. They crawled back into bed, and Akaashi rested his head on Bokuto’s chest again as he selected a movie from their watch list. 

He was aware of Bokuto turning the movie off at some point and setting the laptop back on the floor, but Akaashi kept his eyes closed and floated between waking and sleeping as Bokuto pulled them deeper under the covers. Miko had returned and was curled up above their heads, purring loudly as she slept on their pillows.

Bokuto pulled Akaashi closer to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Akaashi curled his fingers into Bokuto’s t-shirt and sighed, letting his body melt into his boyfriend’s warmth and comfort. He fell asleep to the sound of Bokuto’s steady heartbeat. 

Miko meowed loudly at Bokuto from across the kitchen, demanding he feed her immediately. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand as he poured food into her bowl, trying and failing to suppress a yawn. It was still early in the morning, but he had been woken up by a text from Kuroo inquiring about Akaashi. Miko had taken that as an invitation to pester him until he untangled himself from Akaashi and padded into the kitchen to feed her. 

His hair hung loosely in his face, and he pushed it back with a hand as he made his way down the hallway and entered the bedroom to check on Akaashi. If his body language was anything to go by, Akaashi was beginning to feel much better; in the short time Bokuto had vacated his spot in the bed, Akaashi had sprawled out and was sleeping peacefully with his face mashed into Bokuto’s pillow. 

Chuckling, Bokuto returned to the kitchen to make a bigger breakfast than usual. Akaashi would probably be ravenous when he finally got up. 

Bokuto was pouring the last of the pancake batter in the pan when Akaashi emerged from the hallway and entered the kitchen. The t-shirt he wore had slipped off his slender shoulder, allowing his collar bone to peek out just a bit. His sweatpants hung low on his hips – Bokuto was pretty sure they were actually _his_ sweatpants – but Akaashi didn’t bother adjusting them. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as he crossed the kitchen to curl himself around Bokuto. 

Akaashi’s typically unruly curls had reached a level of bedhead that rivaled Kuroo’s, and Bokuto reached up to run his fingers through his sleepy boyfriend’s hair. When they got tangled and he had to tug a little for his hand to be released, he opted to just rest his hand on the small of Akaashi’s back instead. 

“Don’t pull my hair,” Akaashi mumbled against his shoulder. His voice was full of false pout. 

“I didn’t mean to, Your Highness,” Bokuto replied. He tugged on Akaashi’s t-shirt to get him to straighten a bit. “Temp check.”

Akaashi lifted his head just enough for Bokuto to press his lips against his forehead. Bokuto remained there for a moment, assessing the current state of Akaashi’s lingering fever, then pressed a real kiss to his forehead and let him drop his head back to his shoulder. 

“What’s the verdict?” Akaashi asked. He wrapped both arms around Bokuto’s midsection and squeezed, earning a little huff from his boyfriend.

Bokuto hummed. “I would say you’re running around thirty-seven degrees.” 

Akaashi released Bokuto and disappeared down the hallway, returning a minute later with a dumbstruck look on his face and holding the thermometer in his hand. “How do you do that?”

“Was I right?”

“Thirty-seven point eight.”

Bokuto grinned, then finished the last pancake. “Do you want any eggs?”

Akaashi plopped down at the table. “I want so many eggs.”

They ate breakfast together, then Bokuto made Akaashi take more medicine to keep his fever down. The two of them migrated from the bedroom to the couch, where Akaashi sat tucked between Bokuto’s legs and leaned against his chest as they watched random movies. The wind blew outside, rattling the windows just slightly and causing Akaashi to sink deeper into Bokuto’s embrace to escape any psychosomatic chill the sound of wind gave him. 

Bokuto alternated between playing with Akaashi’s hair and splaying his hands out so Akaashi could fiddle with his fingers. Miko found them after a while and curled into a ball on Akaashi’s lap. She purred loudly as Akaashi ran his fingers through her long, white fur. Much to Bokuto’s surprise, Akaashi didn’t insist on working on his sketch designs or bothering with work emails. He stayed in Bokuto’s arms the entire day, occasionally drifting into a light doze. 

“Do you have to work tonight?” Akaashi asked when he noticed the sky darkening slowly. 

“I called off,” Bokuto replied. When Akaashi glanced up at him with a frown, he pursed his lips and made an exaggerated pouty face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Akaashi took one of Bokuto’s hands in his own and pressed their palms together. It was his usual ritual when he felt anxious but didn’t want to fidget with his own hands because that would give away his anxiety. Bokuto waited patiently for Akaashi’s answer to his question. 

“You shouldn’t have called off just because I’m sick,” Akaashi finally responded. He didn’t sound upset or irritated; he mostly just sounded worried. 

Bokuto laced their fingers together and squeezed Akaashi’s hand, then dipped his head and pressed small kisses to the back of Akaashi’s neck. “I want to stay here and take care of you.”

Akaashi sighed. “I’m not a child, I would be okay for a few hours while you worked.”

“You’re arguing with me over silly things again.”

“Haven’t we already established that I think it’s fun?”

Bokuto slid out from behind Akaashi, letting him fall against the couch cushions with a huff. Miko immediately jumped from his lap and settled on the top of the couch, and Bokuto pounced on Akaashi and pinned him down. Akaashi struggled, but he was still weak from the fever and Bokuto used that to his advantage. He held Akaashi’s hands above his head by the wrists, preventing him from pushing him away, and lifted the hem of his t-shirt to expose his stomach. 

“Koutarou, _no,”_ Akaashi cried as Bokuto pressed his lips to the soft skin there and blew hard. He couldn’t help the giggles that escaped his mouth, or the way he bucked against Bokuto in an attempt to escape. 

Bokuto grinned against Akaashi’s skin and blew again, earning more hysterical giggles. He released Akaashi’s wrists and had just enough time to poke his ribs before Akaashi grabbed his hands and pushed them away frantically. He was still laughing like a mad man, squirming underneath Bokuto and trying to wriggle off the couch and away from Bokuto’s tickling. Bokuto was stronger than him, though, and he only managed to get his top half dangling off the couch, which left his stomach more exposed and vulnerable. 

“Please, please,” Akaashi was panting, “stop that. You know I can’t control myself when you—” 

Bokuto pressed his lips to Akaashi’s stomach and blew again, producing a high pitched shriek from Akaashi that cut off whatever words he was going to use to finish his statement. 

Akaashi reached up and smacked at Bokuto’s broad shoulders and pushed on his head, trying to shove his face away from his sensitive stomach. _“Koutarou!”_

“But Keiji, haven’t we established that I think it’s _fun?”_ Bokuto cooed, sending Akaashi a mischievous grin before kissing his stomach softly and pulling him back onto the couch. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Akaashi pressed his palms against Bokuto’s cheeks, holding him in place so he couldn’t dip his head back to his stomach. “No more arguing; no more tickling. Deal?”

Bokuto leaned in and pecked Akaashi on the tip of his nose. “Deal.”

Bokuto insisted on bathing with Akaashi that night. Akaashi didn’t resist, knowing that a bath together most likely meant Bokuto would massage his fever strained muscles and kiss his bare shoulders. He let himself be pampered and cared for, delighting in the way Bokuto doted on him and constantly checked his temperature with soft presses of lips to his forehead and the back of his neck. 

They tangled their limbs together under the covers, Bokuto’s bare chest pressed flush against Akaashi’s naked back. He nuzzled into Akaashi’s hair and breathed him in. Akaashi pulled one of Bokuto’s hands close to his lips and kissed his knuckles softly until they both fell asleep. 

Sunday was spent the same way as Saturday, but Akaashi’s fever finally broke Sunday afternoon. He was feeling significantly better, but he let himself relax against Bokuto on the couch and bask in his undivided attention for another twenty-four hours.

That night, Akaashi lay with his head tucked under Bokuto’s chin, drawing random shapes on his chest as they listened to each other breathe in the dark. 

“We should call off tomorrow,” Akaashi said suddenly. 

Bokuto chuckled, and the deep sound echoed in his chest and Akaashi could feel it in his own bones. “Just yesterday you practically lectured me for taking off from my part time weekend job just to take care of you. Now you want us _both_ to take off our full time jobs?”

Akaashi shrugged. “Asahi would understand. And I’m sure Hinata could cover for you at the gym. I’m just saying; maybe we should take another day to recover from the fever.”

“I didn’t have a fever, babe.”

“Okay, but you took care of me.”

“Just admit you want to spend one more day being taken care of by me.”

“Fine. I want to spend one more day being taken care of by you.”

Bokuto kissed the top of Akaashi’s head. “I only have one scheduled client tomorrow, and they’ll be there in the morning. Take tomorrow off and sleep in, and by the time you wake up I’ll be done with my client and home with coffee.”

Akaashi smiled and nuzzled into Bokuto’s neck. “Bring me a muffin, too.”

*

The following Friday, Akaashi came home from work later than usual; he’d stayed a little longer to catch up on some work he’d neglected from taking Monday off. When he entered the apartment, he found Bokuto curled up on the couch under three blankets. He slipped his shoes off and padded across the living room, sitting next to him on the edge of a cushion and running his fingers through Bokuto’s hair.

“Keiji, I don’t feel so great,” Bokuto mumbled, peeking over the hem of the blanket at Akaashi with a sad little pout. 

Akaashi smiled softly at him and pressed his lips to Bokuto’s sweat-covered forehead. Just as he’d suspected, Bokuto was running a fever. 

“That’s okay,” Akaashi whispered. He took Bokuto’s face between his hands and pressed a genuine kiss to his forehead. “I’ll take care of you, love.”

That night, Miko slept above their heads on the pillow; Akaashi held Bokuto against his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his back as Bokuto slept soundly with his head on Akaashi’s shoulder. The cold wind blew outside the window, but they were warm under the covers in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Miko is still my favorite original character I've ever written. I love her. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading this!! As always, I really appreciate comments and love to hear from my readers, and I love to interact with you guys too!! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr [@iliura](https://iliura.tumblr.com/)
> 
> <3


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